


Blue Leather

by Fyeahvarric



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 19:56:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3181214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyeahvarric/pseuds/Fyeahvarric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke decides to try on Varric's coat before bed. Varric can't say he doesn't very much admire the view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Leather

**Author's Note:**

> A little PWP ficlet inspired by a prompt sent to me on Tumblr. 
> 
> As per usual with my smutty works, there's some mild dirty talk from our favorite dwarven storyteller. 
> 
> There is also a very gorgeous fanart that goes with this fic, but I won't link it here. (It's over on my Tumblr should anyone old enough to view it be so inclined to want to see it.)

"Hawke, what are you doing?"

"I’m not doing anything."

Cecilia knew he had to be giving her a look. She could practically feel his eyes boring in to her back, even through the would-be protection of sturdy leather stretched across her shoulders.

"It looks to me like you’re specifically doing something other than getting ready to sleep."

"So defensive, Serah Tethras. Not worried I’m going to ruin your fancy coat, are you?"

"It’s survived dragon fire and demon claws, so I doubt it’ll fall apart just from you putting it on. I’m worried that you’re going to steal it.”

"Hmmmm. I am tempted. Blue always has been my color."

She’d donned the coat on a whim really.

It had been sitting there, thrown across the back of a chair, looking somehow very inviting and practically daring her to try it on. Cecilia had always admired Varric’s good taste, particularly where an attractive duster was concerned, and she’d many a time considered how well one of his coats might potentially fit her. So, while he’d been behind her, stripping down for bed, she’d slowly tugged her arms through the sleeves, and enfolded herself in the leather as well as she could. All things considered, it seemed to fit fairly well, just large enough to pull it shut and hide her scantily clad form from neck to mid-thigh, though the sleeves happened to be a bit too short.

Cecilia liked the fit of it, swearing that she could feel Varric’s warmth lingering amongst the heaviness of it, drawing in a breath to scent old pipe smoke, ink, and a faint hint of sweat. Somehow, wearing the coat felt like being home and it was the same feeling being held by Varric had always given her.

"I don’t think it looks half bad, even if it’s not tailored for me."

She turned to him and smiled despite how silly she was sure she might have looked, posing with her hands fisted against her hips and naught, but her smalls on beneath the duster.

And for all his grousing, Varric smiled right back, shirtless and sitting down on the edge of their bed, looking incredibly inviting with his hair pulled down and his fingers crooking _come hither_ in her direction.

"Take it off and come over here, yeah?"

"I can do that."

She knew what he meant, but she also knew what he wanted from her closeness, his voice the deep whiskey-hot rumble of a dwarf with very naked intentions in his mind, so she drew her smalls slowly down the length of her long legs. Her smile shifted from sweet to sultry, wanting, and she left the coat on as she walked towards him, feeling the graze of leather against her naked body. She felt the ache for him before she’d even neared the bed, nipples peaked against thick leather and slick between her thighs.

"Not quite what a meant," he told her, voice just a breath above a whisper as he scanned his palms across her hips and up to her breasts. "But I’m damn sure not complaining."

"Glad to hear it."

Cecilia leaned down for him, pecking the scar stretched across the wide bridge of his nose, lowering to kiss him hard, with heat and teeth just to hear him groaning his approval against her soft mouth.

"Lay back for me."

She gave his shoulders a light shove, but he let even so soft a push urge him on to his back, staring up at her with eyes close to burning and the telltale red of her intent kisses on his lips, his fingers subtly twitching with the desire to touch her. Cecilia brought her hands to his trousers and tugged them down to his knees, finding that he was already hard for her, sensitive to the slow drag of her tongue darting so slow and wet up the front of his cock, nothing more than a tease that ended too soon.

She straddled him, her knees settled outside of his thighs, his length so warm against her folds, and his hands close to worship in the way they massaged her thighs, matching the way he looked up at her, as if he marveled at the sight of her above him. The love in his eyes, even when desire fueled his frame of mind in that moment, made her smile.

"I want them up here," she whispered, grabbing his wrists to lift them above his head. "I’m going to keep them there, if it’s okay."

"It’s okay, Hawke. Fuck, it’s more than okay."

He lifted his hips, grinding against her, needing her to take him in, and Cecilia could scarcely wait, already feeling herself perspired under the weight of his coat and the way he throbbed for her. She lifted her hips, positioned him with her hands, and sank down on him hard, drawing a throat groan from the storyteller’s lips. She watched his face and the way his eyes closed, brow furrowing with pleasure at the feel of her taking him in, delighted that he’d kept his hands above his head.

Cecilia tested his resolve, rocking her hips back and forth, keeping it slow even when she desperately wanted to go faster, seeing his fingers curl to pull on the sheets, feeling his thighs tensing as she raked her fingers through his chest hair and reveled in the thick feel of him filling her.

"Cecilia…pin my hands."

"That was the plan."

"You’ve gotta do it now," he bid her, his eyes squeezed shut and his voice tight with pleasure.

"If I don’t?"

He looked up at her, panting and promising things with his eyes even before he spoke, giving her the words she wanted to hear so badly.

"If you don’t, I’m going touch every sweet part of you I can reach. I’ll start with your breasts, soft and kneading in that way you like, with my thumbs brushing your nipples."

She nodded and listened, still riding him slow, but taking in the sensations he painted with his words, swearing she could feel the touches he promised her.

"And then lower, down to your hips, where I’ll let them rest for a while, so I can feel the way they’re moving while I’m in you so deep. And my fingers would be itching to move just a little further in, below your belly to rub that sweet spot that makes you sing for me, sweetness. I’d get my fingers wet, easy when you’re so soaked, and I’d rub you there slow, so damn slow, just like the way you’re moving now."

It sounded so good, better than good, and Cecilia nearly felt herself give in, biting back the plea for him to make good on the words she’d ached him to speak. But no matter how good his touch would have felt, his voice itself somehow felt better this time, felt like enough, and she found her fingers twining with his, leaning over him to press his hands down against the mattress. He groaned out her name as her hips quickened, lifting and dropping down on his length, riding him faster, aching from how good it felt. His words, mumbles of her name and uttered appraisals, fueled her pleasure completely, shudders racing up her spine when he craned his neck to drag his tongue up the underside of one breast, seeking the stiff pink that crested it.

She let go when she felt close to coming, sitting up and shrugging off his coat, feeling stifled by the weight and heat of it, even while utterly thankful for the things it had inspired. Cecilia cried out as the duster hit the floor, coming and shaking and hardly protesting when Varric’s hands relented to his own wants, settling on her hips. His fingers squeezed and urged her to keep moving, gripping her tight as he found his own release, unable to say anything other than her name.

For a time, only heavy gasps passed between them, the room falling to silence as the pleasure passed. Cecilia moved off of Varric, a bit sluggish and more than a bit sweaty, but infinitely pleased as she laid on her side, watching him roll to face her.

"Finally took it off, I see."

"You almost sound happy that I did. I’d almost think you were starting to feel jealous that I wear it better."

Varric snorted, taking one of her hands to lead it to his lips, kissing the backs of her knuckles, a gentleman even while completely nude.

"All right. It does look pretty good on you. But I’m not letting you steal my favorite coat."

"Even if it’s in my color?"

“ _Because_ it’s in your color, Hawke. That’s why it’s my favorite.”


End file.
